As I lay Ill
by A Wind Has Blown the Sky Away
Summary: When Elena gets the flu, she expects it to be her usual routine of ignoring the fact she's ill and occasionally pausing to drink soup. But since it's Damon who finds her dizzy and in pain in her room, things might just go a little differently...


[Damon's P.O.V]

I sat down on her window seat, a draft ruffling my hair. I could hear her downstairs, turning off the lights and getting ready for bed.

I didn't know what I was going to say, I only knew I had to talk to her. My head felt fuzzy with the need for her understanding – or maybe that was the alcohol I could still taste in my mouth.

Downstairs she stumbled and I heard her curse.

I smiled to myself at her human clumsiness.

My Elena.

She began to ascend the stairs, her breathing unsteady and her heartbeat wild. I frowned to myself. That wasn't usual.

Elena had no idea I was here, and her breathing should be normal. Her _heartbeat _should be normal. I listened intently; there was no one else in the house.

She eased the door open and stumbled in.

Her breath caught in her throat and she stared at me. Her eyes were wide and there was a light sheen of perspiration on her forehead.

I stood up quickly and went over to her.

"Elena?" I asked, worried. I gently touched her arm and she swayed slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Damon," She murmured, her eyes were cloudy and she began shivering. "Damon,"

"Yeah, I'm here Elena. What's wrong?" I bundled her up to me, wrapping my arms around her. "Elena?" I whispered into her hair.

She buried her head in the crook of my neck and repeated "Damon," as I stroked her hair.

* * *

[Elena's P.O.V]

My head was spinning.

I knew I had a migraine, but it was very late, I should go to bed. Sleep it off.

I walked around and switched off the lights. The house was empty without Jeremy; Alaric was at his house.

My head was spinning.

I reached over to switch off the lamp, and the floor lurched up towards me. I fell, banging my knee.

I muttered a curse and picked myself up off the floor.

I walked over to the stairs and leaned against the wall.

My head was still spinning and I all of a sudden felt cold.

I began to walk upstairs and I pressed a hand to my pounding head, before gently opening the door to my bedroom. My breath caught in my throat as I saw him sitting there.

My Damon.

His hair was ruffling in the draft from my open window, and his hands rested on his knees.

He stared at me, his blue eyes looking at me intently. His eyes widened and I felt myself sway slightly, as he stood up and walked towards me; his face anxious.

"Elena?" He was saying my name, and he gently touched my arm. I felt myself swaying. "Are you okay?"

Damon was here. I didn't know why – it was like he'd known, instinctively, that I wasn't feeling well. I tried to smile but I felt detached from my body. I watched as Damon turned from anxious to panicking. I was worrying him.

I tried to say something, anything. "Damon," The word escaped from my lips and I shivered. "Damon," I repeated._ Damon_.

"Yeah, I'm here Elena. What's wrong?" He wrapped his arms around me and I inhaled his scent. His black T-shirt smelt like soap, and he smelt like home. Not my house, but just home. I felt my legs lose their strength and I leant against him; his strong arms keeping me up, keeping me pressed against him where I belonged. "Elena?" He murmured it into my hair, and I buried my head into the crook of his neck.

I felt so safe here. I was faintly aware that I was whispering his name, over and over.

He picked me up and lay me gently on the bed, standing over me nervously. I clutched his hand as if it were my one link to life, pulling him down beside me.

"Elena, tell me what's wrong," He pleaded as I curled up next to him.

"I… my head," I whispered. He stroked my hair soothingly, but I could tell he was worried.

"Elena, don't worry. I'll – I'll get Meredith, or, or Bonnie," He said, and began to pull away. I protested with a whimper. "I'll be as quick as possible Elena, just stay here, okay?"

I nodded feebly and shivered violently. I was so cold without him. Damon pulled the blanket over me and brushed my cheek with the back of his hand.

The gesture felt so familiar, as if he'd done it once before in a dream. I smiled faintly at him, but then I turned my head sharply away and let out a dry, chesty cough that racked my body and made my head pulse.

Damon hesitated, before disappearing out the window.

* * *

[Damon's P.O.V]

I knocked loudly on the door of Bonnie's house. A man answered, wearing pyjamas and frowning.

"Hello?" His voice was gruff and he seemed annoyed at my late calling.

"Where's Bonnie?" I asked, irritated.

"She's asleep," The man eyed me warily. "Who are you?"

"Just get Bonnie!" I snapped.

"And why would I do that? What business exactly do you have with my eighteen year old daughter at ten to one?" The man folded his arms and glared at me suspiciously.

I leant forward and stared at him. When I spoke my voice was layered with compulsion. "_Go and wake Bonnie you idiot. Tell her something's wrong with Elena and tell her to hurry up. Then forget this ever happened, got it? Good," _I released him and he scuttled upstairs.

Impatiently I tapped my foot on the floor. It seemed like forever until Bonnie arrived at the door, pulling a jacket over a pair of pink pyjamas.

"Is she at her house?" She asked, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and closing the door behind her. I nodded and began moving forward. "Oh, and Damon?"

"What?" I snapped, turning to glare at her.

"Don't _ever_ compel my dad again; okay?" Her eyes were shooting daggers at me and I heard the threat behind her words.

"He was being an idiot," I dismissed her accusations. "'Guess that runs in the family, huh Witchy?"

"Shut up Damon,"

I marched quickly in front of her. "Hurry up," I snapped as she lagged behind.

"Idiot,"

* * *

I opened the door and let Bonnie in, before returning to Elena and touching her hand gently.

"Elena?" I murmured, pushing hair away from her face. I winced inwardly; her forehead was hot with fever. I heard Bonnie slowly make her way up the stairs. "Elena, Bonnie's here,"

She looked up at me and smiled weakly. "Damon," Her voice was croaky and feeble.

Bonnie walked in and rushed to Elena's side.

"What's wrong with her? Is it a curse?" I demanded. I glared at Bonnie. "Was it Klaus?" I began pacing back and forth, clenching my fists in anger.

"Damon, stop it," Elena croaked.

I ignored her and continued pacing around the room as Bonnie felt Elena's forehead.

"Damon _don't_," Elena pleaded. I went to her side and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Oh this is priceless," Bonnie said.

"What?" I glared at her.

"Actually; no this _sucks._"

"Witchy what are you talking about?" I growled.

"You woke me up for nothing. I can't believe this!"

"If you don't explain yourself _right now –"_

"Elena has the flu," Bonnie stated.

* * *

[Elena's P.O.V]

"She _what?_" Damon's voice was incredulous.

Bonnie sighed. "She has the flu. It's not surprising, Damon, she is human. Not everything is supernatural, you know."

"The flu," Damon repeated, dumbfounded.

Bonnie turned to me. "When I had the flu, Dad made me drink loads of water and I just stayed in bed all day. You can take a Paracetamol for the headache." She then glared at Damon. "_Now_ I'm going to bed. Next time get a doctor. I'm a _witch_. There's a difference."

She walked out the room without another word, leaving Damon and I alone.

"So," I said, my voice throaty and uneven. "I have the flu,"

Damon walked over and sat next to me on the bed, making the mattress bounce. "Yep,"

I snuggled up to him, resting my head on his chest. Then I angled my head away and coughed pathetically.

"Do you want some water?" Damon asked.

"No, it's fine. I'll get some myself," I began to ease my way out of bed, but Damon was quicker.

He pulled the blanket back over me and gently pushed me back down. "No way. You're ill; you stay in bed."

"Damon…" I protested.

He wagged his finger at me. "Uh-_uh_ Elena. Those are the rules."

"But –" But Damon was already downstairs, probably running the tap. _Damn vampire speed._

* * *

"Uh…" My head felt like crap. My mouth was dry and my throat was worse than sore. I opened my eyes, to see black.

I blinked, and the world came into focus. The 'black' was Damon's T-shirt – he'd fallen asleep over the blankets, and I appeared to have used his chest as a pillow.

I snuggled further into him, looking at his sleeping face.

He was so peaceful. There was no sadness, or anger, or pride. Just… Damon.

"You know," He cracked open an eye. "It's kind of creepy to watch people while they sleep."

I blushed and looked away as he smirked. "You're the vampire; you tell me,"

Damon sat up, outraged. "Hey, just because Edward Cullen was a creep doesn't mean the rest of us are," He grinned. "In fact I am ashamed to share a species with that guy!"

I laughed, then abruptly stopped. "Ow,"

Damon looked at me, concerned. "Is it your throat?" I nodded, and lay back on the pillow. He felt my forehead. "You're still burning up…" Damon was suddenly standing. "I'll get you a paracetamol. And some lemon and honey for your throat."

I stared at him. "When did you get all homey?" I asked hoarsely.

"I told you; you're ill. You need someone to look after you. And with Stefan…" Damon looked away.

"Gone," I finished off for him bitterly.

Damon looked at me sadly. "Yeah," He said softly. "With Stefan gone, I'm here as a sort of…" He smirked. "Salvatore Replacement Service."

He turned to walk out the room, but I wasn't letting him off that easily. "Damon," I called. He turned back, concern written on his features.

"Yes?"

"You're not replacing _anybody_, okay?" I told him firmly. "Stefan's Stefan, and you're you, got it?"

"Glad you cleared that up for me," His tone was jokey, but he was smiling.

It made me feel warm and fuzzy in a super cheesy way.

He turned back round and in a split second was downstairs.

I smiled to myself. This new side to Damon was… new.

I liked it.

* * *

[Damon's P.O.V]

We spent the day on Elena's sofa, watching crappy reruns of various crappy TV shows. Elena lay under a blanket next to a box of tissues, and I sat at the other side of the sofa under her legs.

I pointed out plot holes, whilst Elena predicted what would happen (she was never wrong). Occasionally I would look over at her, and she would be asleep. I'd tuck the blanket further around her shoulders and turn the TV down.

Around five o'clock, I made her chicken soup.

She stared at me. "You can cook?"

I pretended to be offended. "Of course I can cook. Sexist, much?"

She took the bowl and sipped the soup. "It's not that you're a man… more that you're a vampire. You don't need to cook."

"Potato pot-ah-to," I lifted her legs and sat next to her. "So is it delicious or what?"

"I'm impressed," She coughed again and took more of the soup. "Ow… my headache's back," She pressed a hand to her forehead and leant back on the sofa cushion.

"Do you want a painkiller?"

She turned to look at me. "You really don't have to do this, you know,"

"Do what?"

"You know what; spend your time with me whilst I sniff and cough and complain. You can go, I won't mind. This has to have been the most boring day of your Undeath so far." Elena placed the half eaten bowl of soup on the table and pulled the blanket up to her chin.

I looked at her, my eyes soft. "Elena, today would have been the dullest day in the history of vampires," I said gently. She looked away. "But I spent it with you, so instead it's been the most fun I've had since I was human." I finished.

She smiled at me. "Even with the plot holes?"

I smiled right back. "Even with the plot holes."

* * *

I picked her up bridal-style, and carried her up the stairs.

"This is humiliating," She complained in a feeble and tired voice.

"Elena you can barely walk, what else are you going to do – slither to bed?"

"Still…"

I kicked open her bedroom door and placed her on the bed, before shutting the door.

"There's water there, a Paracetamol there and if you want I can get you a hot water bottle," I told her, pulling the blanket up over her.

"I feel like a little child," She complained hoarsely, but she was blinking sleepily and snuggling in.

"I'm just taking care of you," I defended, then turned to open the window. "Goodnight Elena,"

"Are you going?" She tried to sit up. "Why?"

"I already stayed yesterday when I shouldn't have. Don't worry, I'll be back tomorrow." I told her.

"But…" She looked at me with her large, chocolate eyes. "Can't you stay?"

I was taken a back – I hadn't expected her to ask me to stay. She knew my feelings; I hoped she wouldn't push the boundaries too much. "Okay," I said softly. "Budge up,"

She shifted over so there was room for me, and then cuddled up to me like a puppy.

"Does this remind you of anything, only with the roles reversed?" Elena asked, yawning and closing her eyes.

"That night I was… dying?" I offered.

"Mmm-hmm," Was all she said in response.

"Except you're not dying, which is good," I said, stroking her hair.

She acted like I hadn't spoken. "I almost lost you," She said quietly, eyes still shut.

"You didn't," I reminded her.

"But I almost did," She wrapped her arms around me as if she could prevent me ever dying that way. "I couldn't bear to lose you," She whispered. "You mean too much to me." She was barely awake at this point, as if her own words had lulled herself to sleep.

I smiled to myself as her breathing began to even out, then, so quietly I was sure she wouldn't be able to hear me, I said, "I told you I loved you that night. I guess that's where the similarities end. I still do love you, you know. I love you Elena," I looked at her sleeping features. "If only you could say it back."

"I love you, Damon," She murmured.

I looked down at her, dumbfounded.

But she was asleep, almost as if I had imagined the whole thing.


End file.
